So there I was, 41 weeks pregnant. 7 agonizing days past my estimated due date. It was just another, crappy, still pregnant day. I headed out to visit with my sister in law and nieces and nephews. (My husband was out returning a trencher, after digging up the backyard and accidentally cutting our internet cable. Why not start a crazy project when your wife is 40+ weeks pregnant?) The kids were excited to get out of house, something we hadn't been doing much of. (Who's got energy for that?) I made the drive up to their house, let the kids play, had brunch, and headed home so I could try to nap.
|41 weeks pregnant in early labor|
I decided to give up on sleeping, and I was frustrated that my feet were freezing so I decided to take a shower to warm up. I leaned on the wall through the contractions, but I wasn't having to vocalize through them, so I still didn't think I was in labor. (see; Denial: "refusal to admit the truth or reality") After I got out of the shower I decided to put on my "labor clothes", but just for cautionary purposes. I had to lean over the counter in the bathroom for each contraction and I was doing a figure 8 with my hips trying to get baby to turn so my back wouldn't hurt so bad. (Baby had been face up for weeks and I couldn't get her in the ideal position, I was obsessing over it!)
|My helpful Husband|
We got to triage and the lady who brought us up told me to put on a gown. I said "no thanks." She looked at me funny and said bluntly "take it up with your nurse." Okay lady, calm it down. Thankfully that was the only negativity I experienced during the entire labor and delivery. Of course the nurse didn't bat an eye at me rocking my tank top. My photographer met us in triage and started snapping pictures right away. We laughed and chatted and occasionally I would pause for contractions. The nurse checked me, and I was happy to hear I was at 6.5 centimeters! Hooray! I was ecstatic. I didn't have to be pregnant much longer, and we were finally going meet this baby.
|Laboring in triage|
|Laughing through labor|
|Right after my water broke!|
Our photographer went to grab our midwife. I remember saying "I hope this doesn't take as long as last time." Because I really couldn't bear the thought of pushing for 1.5 hours again. My midwife came in ready to see if it was go time. With my next contraction my water broke. All over the floor, making a loud noise as it hit the ground. It was such a cool moment! It could have been straight out of a movie. Pretty quickly after my water broke, Shit. Got. Real. I literally felt the babies head move down. It was probably the strangest sensation I have ever experienced. The timeline is fuzzy here, but at some point my midwife checked me and I was at a 10, and a +4 station! Woo hoo! It was time to get down to business.
|Pushing is hard work|
I crawled up on the bed and started out pushing on my hands and knees. The pain was terrible! Way worse than I remember! I was screaming like a banshee and I could have cared less who heard me. Suck it, I'm having a baby here. But then the babies heart rate stopped coming back up the way it's supposed to after contractions. So I ended up on my back and with oxygen to see if that would help babies heart rate come back up. I would go from screaming in pain to telling myself "You are only one who could end this".
I knew that high pitched screaming was not the most effective way to push a baby out, but I couldn't help it. I mean, that shit hurts! Everyone said we were getting close, but it seemed like everyone said that for an hour with my last birth, so I wasn't confident they were accurate with their timeline. I just kept yelling about how bad it hurt and that I couldn't do it. But I also knew that I needed to get this baby out since the heart rate was crap. I was for sure that I was tearing terribly but at that point, what can you do? Just keep pushing! I reached down and felt the babies head. Okay, they aren't lying to me, the baby is actually crowning. I kept trying to put my hands down by the babies head because I wanted to help deliver, but the pain was so intense that I kept pulling my hands back. It was such an internal battle. (It mostly went like this "Damn it Jesse, this is your plan, do it! Interupted by OUCH OUCH OUCH no thoughts here OUCH OUCH OUCH) My husband kept pulling my hands back down because he knew what I wanted. (Thanks babe!) During the last few pushes I heard someone say that the head was out, so I did my damnedest to fulfill my own wish and helped grab onto whatever baby part I could. Apparently it was just that babies head, but thankfully my midwife had a better hold on baby and got baby on my chest!
|"come here baby!"|
|Holing baby girl|
while still attached
to the umbilical cord
|The moment we found out|
she was a girl!
The midwife had to take a look to asses the damage, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear that there wasn't any! Not a stitch was needed. I honestly couldn't believe it after needing so many stitches last time. She said that the babies head came out at a bit of an angle, not the ideal position for delivery. That explained why it hurt so much more than my last delivery, all that bone on bone pressure.
|Riding that adrenaline high!|